Glass Doll
by Bura-sama
Summary: Follows Takeru as he struggles with guilt for loving two people -- Hikari and Yamato. Rape, incest, angst, death, heterosexual and homosexual pairings, and suicide. Takari Yamakeru Takato Hikeru
1. Porcelain

3157  
Bura-sama  
Saturday.10.13.01  
Monday.10.15.01

Disclaimer: Digimon belongs in no way to me. I'm making no profit from this sicko story. Really, I'm not. I don't own the characters, I'm merely using them for my sick and twisted fantasies, and no infringement is intended.

Warnings: This is a Takari (Takeru X Hikari); Takato (Takeru X Yamato); Hikeru (Hikari X Takeru); and Yamakeru (Yamato X Takeru). This fic features both heterosexual and homosexual situations, rape, incest, suicide, and mild lime scenes. You have been warned, and any damage this fic might do to your mental stability is strictly your own fault.

Notes: Italics mean flashback.

Glass Doll

chapter one

_ "Takeru, we can't." Broken silence, cutting into the room like jagged glass._

_ "Why not?" Innocent, curious, slightly alarmed._

_ "Because, we can't. What would our parents do if they found out?" The unwelcome and unwanted voice of reason._

_ "But I want to. You wouldn't say no to me, would you Yamato? You told me you'd never say 'no' to me." Still so innocent, and yet upset, troubled, angry._

_ "I also said I'd never hurt you. Believe me about this one, Takeru, this will hurt you." A calm thought in the dead of night._

_ "...but...?" On the verge of tears, wanting so bad to just cry._

_ "Takeru, physically and emotionally, this will hurt. I don't want to see you in pain, little brother. Don't make me do something we'll both regret." Pleading with hope and dignity, praying not to hurt._

_ "... I love you, Yamato, and if you're not ready to love me back, then I'll just have to wait." A carefree, happy grin; bright, innocent eyes. So fragile, like a little glass doll._

---

It was so hard, Takeru reflected wearily as he closed his eyes. He was standing in front of a mirror, trying to figure out the person staring back at him. Golden blond hair, shining blue eyes, an innocent... happy... smile. The smile of lies and deceit. That was all his life was anymore, or so he had decided as he briskly splashed cool water over his face and reached for his toothbrush. He grabbed a tube of toothpaste from the cabinet, and started to brush his teeth. He stared into the mirror as his mind strayed.

_ "Stop lying to me Takeru. Is there someone else?" Pain-filled words desperately seeking truth and understanding._

_ "God, Hikari! How could you say that? You know I love you..." Lies cut into his skin like a blade._

_ "I do know that you love me Takeru, but I wonder how much. I stay awake at night sometimes, just staring at the ceiling. I think to myself, 'Hikari, you've got everything. You have family, friends, a great guy -- but why does it all feel so empty?' And I try, and I try, and I try to find the answer. I search everywhere, but I just can't figure out why it feels so fake. So maybe you have the answer for me Takeru, maybe you can tell me why I'm so empty inside." Silence hung in the room like a noose, and Takeru couldn't breath._

_ He took a step forward, and gently cupped her face in his hands. "Hikari, I'm scared sometimes. I wake up at night, and I can't remember who I am or where I belong. I feel like everything around me is a foolish mirage. I try to scream out for help, and no one is there. I try to cry, but the tears won't fall. I can't breathe, and no matter where I look, there is no air." He paused and started into her eyes. "Yes Hikari, I love you. I love you as a friend, I love you as more. I can't make sense of it all right now, so I can't give you a better answer." His arms fell to his sides, and he turned his attention to the floor. "Just give me some time to get my head clear, and then--"_

_ He was interrupted as Hikari suddenly reached out and kissed him on the cheek. Takeru was taken back for a moment, before returning the kiss. "I've got to go," She whispered quietly before pulling on her jacket and walking to the door. "I'll call you later, okay?"_

It wasn't okay, Takeru reflected bitterly. It was far from _okay_. He was lying to his best friend. She trusted him fully, and he wasn't completely open with her. He spat the remaining toothpaste from his mouth and reached for the bottle of mouthwash. He didn't know what he was doing, he couldn't think straight. He sighed fitfully, and then glanced into the mirror again. "I'll be okay. She'll be okay."

_Liar_.

---

Takeru stared down at his math homework, his mind had deserted him before he had even opened the book. His gaze never shifted from the problem in the textbook, and he chewed absently on his eraser. He hadn't moved in the last fifteen minutes. His desktop lamp shone brightly onto the the table, creating a sharp contrast with the dark atmosphere in the room. He was almost asleep when he heard footsteps behind him. He didn't bother to even turn around, "I didn't mean to wake you." He slowly cut the lamp off and turned to the figure behind him. 

She was wearing his bathrobe, much too big for her which left the sleeves hanging down past her hands. Moonlight shadowed her eyes while illuminating her swollen lips which were curved up in a pout and her perfectly smooth skin that just begged to be touched. She had her hands on her hips as she glared at her lover -- more precisely, his _math homework_. "This makes me feel really good right now," She whispered into the darkness. She suddenly had her hands on his shoulders, her tender mouth giving his neck feather light kisses. "Come back to bed, Takeru." Hikari smelled like him, Takeru noted. More accurately, she smelled like sex. Her hand snaked down into his wrinkled pajama top, her fingers teasingly brushing across his chest. "Come back to bed, Takeru. I'll make it worth your while..."

Takeru rose from the chair, and slipped Hikari's arm through his as they walked back to the bed. The pale moonlight set everything awash in pale blues and grays. Still, Takeru could see the dark red, almost black, misshapen circle in the floor.

_"Takeru. Takeru, let's make it real. Please Takeru, I want you. I need you." Hikari pressed needy kisses against his neck and shoulder. "Please, Takeru." He found himself kissing her back, his hands sliding her skirt off her hips as he pushed her toward his bed. He was moaning her name, touching her everywhere he could manage. Suddenly, Hikari tensed up, and pulled in the opposite direction. "Not the bed, Takeru. It'll be too messy." Another fervid kiss to his neck._

_ "Then where...?"_

_ "The floor will work," She noticed his uncomfortable silence and halfhearted kisses. "Don't worry about me, Takeru. I've always wanted my first time to be with you..."_

Hikari noticed what he was looking at, and gave him a little push for encouragement. "Come on, Takeru. It didn't hurt too bad."

_ "I don't want to hurt you, Hikari. I don't want to cause you pain." Ragged, heavy breathing. Breaking the silence the two had previously shared._

_ "I know it'll hurt me, Takeru. The longer we talk about it, the more it is gonna hurt me. Just get it over with." Her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, begging for reassurance, preparing for pain. A shout into the night, the reluctance of unshed tears. More heavy breathing and an almost delirious moan. "The worst is over with, Takeru... I won't hurt anymore..."_

Takeru's gentle fingers reached up and softly caressed her face. His other hand slid the bathrobe from her shoulders and onto the floor. Her hands reached down and tugged his boxers off. One deep kiss, then another, and then another. And this time there was no cry of pain, only pleasured moaning as she sounded out his name, over and over again.

He rolled off of her, sweat making his hair cling to his forehead. _Deep breaths, Takeru. One breath at a time, just one breath at a time. It'll be okay. Look, Hikari's breathing, you can breathe, too._ She looked so tired, sleep had almost overtaken her. She moved closer to her lover, her lips right next to his ear. Her arm reached out and grabbed onto his arm, using his shoulder as her pillow. "...I love you, Takeru."

_"Yamato. Yamato, I love you." A much younger Takeru, a much more innocent Takeru._

_ "I love you, too... Takeru..." A much happier, a much more emotionally balanced Yamato. A brotherly pat on the shoulder, and then a look into those innocent deep blue eyes. "Though that's not what you mean, is it Takeru?"_

_ "No, Yamato. I _love_ you. I want to be with you. Don't you want to be with me? Don't you _love_ me?" Desperately clinging to his older brother's leg like his life depended on it._

_ "I _do_ love you, you're my little brother. I just can't think about you in the way you want me to." He was trying to be calm, he was trying to remain in control of the situation._

_ "Then you don't love me?" Innocence dissolved into unhappiness. A tear rolled down his cheek._

_ "No, no, Takeru. You don't understand. It's because I love that I won't do what you want me to do." Also unhappy, also trying to understand._

_ A quick kiss pressed against unsuspecting lips. "Please, Yamato. Please do this for me..."_

_ Gentle and patient hands pulling the younger hands down. "Takeru, we can't." Broken silence, cutting into the room like jagged glass._

"Why do I do this to myself?" Takeru asked quietly as he listened to Hikari breathing against his side. He looked down to her sweet-smelling hair. "Why do I do this to her?" Guilt stole into his heart, and he just stared at the ceiling. _She deserves so much better than me. She deserves to be so much happier. I wish there was a way. I wish there was a way I could love her with all of my heart._

---

Takeru's fingers were starting to turn numb, but he relentlessly continued scrubbing the carpet. He pushed back the sleeve on his white shirt, and submerged the cleaning brush and his hand into the bucket of carpet cleaner. As he looked down to the bright pink stain on his floor, he wished he didn't have white carpet. He momentarily stretched his fingers and tried to get the blood circulating in his fingertips again. After that brief pause, he set to work again, determined to have no trace of blood in his carpet.

"I've heard a lot of 'morning after' stories from the girls at school. The guy leaves before she wakes up; the awkward moments where he promises to call, but never does; the occasional one where he takes off with half of her stuff and she doesn't even know his name. This one is new, Takeru." Takeru didn't even turn around as Hikari walked up to stand right behind him. "I wake up from my first time to see my boyfriend cleaning house. Really romantic, Takeru."

She didn't even wait for him to reply as she made her way straight to his bathroom, and none-to-gently shut the door behind her. "Good morning to you, too, Hikari." He vigorously scrubbed at the carpet, ignoring the sound of his shower running. Satisfied that he had removed the stain, Takeru put the cleaning supplies next to his door, and then walked to the window. He pushed back the drapes, allowing warm sunlight to flood into the room. The floor would be dry within hours, and no one would ever have to know. He walked over to the window, staring down as people all around started another day of their lives. It was so empty, so meaningless. He glanced back to the bunched up blankets, picked up a pillow from the floor, and started making his bed.

He was dimly aware of the fact that the water had stopped running. He could almost hear water dripping onto his tiled bathroom floor. He turned around and looked at Hikari. She was wrapped up in a towel, barely covering her body. Water dripped from her hair and onto his meticulously clean carpet. She stared at him, watched him making sure everything was nice and clean. She couldn't even tell that this was the same room where they had made love the night before. "Do you regret having sex with me, Takeru?"

Takeru dropped the pillow he was picking up, and spun around to face Hikari, "No! Of course I don't regret making love with you. How could you even think that?"

She wasn't to be that easily convinced, "Tell me, Takeru. Would you do it again if you were given a choice?" Her voice was so calm, pleading to Takeru, almost begging him to say 'yes'. He didn't answer. "Answer me, Takeru. Would you do it again?"

"It's not that easy, Hikari." His voice was a gentle letdown.

She walked over to her pile of discarded clothes and picked up her skirt. She instantly dropped it. "I can't wear these clothes. I just can't do it." Takeru started going through his closet, and handed her a sleeveless red shirt and neon green bicycle shorts. She looked at him oddly before slipping them on and running a hand through her hair. She picked up her sex-stained clothes and curtly walked out the door.

Takeru stared behind her, watching as she slammed the door to his apartment and disappeared down the hall. He picked up the towel and took it to the bathroom again and dropped it in the clothes hamper. He sighed, and looked into the mirror. "Is it possible to love two people with the same amount of passion?"

---

Takeru watched as his mother left their apartment. He waited until he saw her step into the elevator, then locked the door and went to his room. He looked down at the carpet, half-expecting a dark red stain to be there. The carpet was spotless. His sheets and covers didn't have a wrinkle. He could still smell the air freshener smell in his room. This was his room, the room of innocent, sweet, little Takeru. This wasn't the room where he had stolen a girl's virginity. This wasn't the room where he had broken her heart the next morning.

_She was pressed up against his locker, waiting for him to get out of class. He looked down at her textbook. It was sex education week for girls. Her once innocent eyes were so sad, so darkened. He felt as if he had rubbed dirt all over her body. "I feel like such a fool..." She wiped tears away from her eyes. "I keep taking showers, at home and at school. I feel dirty, I feel tainted. You made me feel used and dirty, Takeru. I never realized how much I would regret loosing my virginity to someone who can't love me back."_

He reached under his bed and pulled out a six-pack of beer. He opened one and plopped down on his bed. It was gone within seconds. _"...I feel dirty, I feel tainted..."_ He opened another, trying to drown Hikari's sorrow. _"... you made feel used and dirty..."_ A third can was added to the pile. _"...I never realized how much I would regret..."_ He opened a fourth, but paused before drinking, "I'm sorry, Hikari." He emptied it down his throat, and reached for another. He opened it, but didn't drink. He walked to the kitchen, and emptied it down the drain. The last beer met the same fate, and Takeru walked back to his bed.

_"But you're wrong, Hikari. I _do_ love you..." He desperately tried to plead with her. He just wanted to stop those tears from leaving her eyes._

_ "You do? Then why do I feel like I'm second place in your heart?" She was angry, torn, and just wanted it all to go away._

_ He didn't answer immediately. Then, as the people began to leave the halls and go home, he closed his eyes, and bowed his head. "Hikari, do you believe that it's possible to love two people with the same amount of passion? That one person is not more important that the other?"_

_ Hikari looked at him for a moment before turning away. "No, I don't. I believe in 'one and only'. I think that a person only has room in their heart for one love of their life." She let her arms hang numbly at her sides. "Is this what this is all about? You love someone else?" He nodded slowly. "And they return these feelings? They love you more than I do?" He shook his head. She nodded, and picked up her books. "I hope they love you back, Takeru. I hope you can find someone who you can love as much as I love you." She walked away._

_ Takeru stared as she left. "It's not that easy, Hikari. You can't understand."_

He lay on his bed, letting the alcohol fuzz the edges of his brain. Everything seemed so dense. Nothing was working right, just like when he was younger.

_ "Yamato, why don't you love me?" Takeru whispered as he and his brother lay on the couch together._

_ "Takeru, we've been through this before. It's incest; it's unclean and wrong." Yamato uneasily looked down at his little brother._

_ "What's incest?" So innocent, so unknowing. Begging to be broken._

_ "It's when people who are related marry each other." He wasn't quite sure what to say._

_ "But we're not gonna get married, so it's all okay, right?" Desperate for anyway around the truth._

_ "It's not just marriage. It's when... parents and children, brothers and sisters... brothers, have sex." He was sure he could feel the blush covering his face._

_ "What's wrong with that, if they love each other?" He never got an answer._

---

He stared at the television, waiting for his mother to come home. He looked back to the table, where the other plate was sitting uselessly in front of an empty chair. He didn't even know why he bothered sometimes. His mother was obviously working late. He concentrated on the television show playing on the tv. It was a cheesy soap opera, and he couldn't even remember why he had turned it on.

_ "...I'm sorry, John. I've found someone new..."_

_ "Who is it, Anne? Who has stolen you away from me?!"_

_ "I'm sorry... but I've left you for... your brother!"_

Takeru rolled his eyes and hit the power switch. That depressing show was not helping his self-esteem. He was almost asleep, arm hanging off of the couch, when he heard the door open. "Were you stuck in traffic again, Mom?"

No answer.

"Mom?"

No answer.

Beginning to get worried, Takeru rolled off the couch and almost silently walked to the door. It was dark inside the apartment, and he fleetingly wondered when the sun had disappeared over the horizon. Lightning crashed outside in the moonless sky. He hadn't even noticed when it had begun to storm. The lightning flashed again, revealing a figure standing in front of the hallway, silhouetted by the light in the hall. Rainwater dripped off of the figure's shoulders. A shaking crash of thunder vibrated against the windows. Lightning flashed across the sky.

Takeru screamed.


	2. Broken

2966  
Bura-sama  
Monday.10.15.01  
Wednesday.11.21.01

Disclaimer: Digimon belongs in no way to me. I'm making no profit from this sicko story. Really, I'm not. I don't own the characters, I'm merely using them for my sick and twisted fantasies, and no infringement is intended.

Warnings: This is a Takari (Takeru X Hikari); Takato (Takeru X Yamato); Hikeru (Hikari X Takeru); and Yamakeru (Yamato X Takeru). This fic features both heterosexual and homosexual situations, rape, incest, suicide, and mild lime scenes. You have been warned, and any damage this fic might do to your mental stability is strictly your own fault.

Notes: Italics mean flashback.

Glass Doll

chapter two

"Don't you ever do that to me again!" Takeru shouted as he shut the door behind his older brother. Yamato looked at him oddly, a mask of offended innocence all over his wet face. He shrugged out of his raincoat and slipped his shoes off by the door. Takeru took the coat and hung it on the doorknob behind him. "Don't you ever knock?"

"I did knock," Yamato said calmly and looked back to his brother, "What's wrong?" 

"Nothing," The word was out much too quickly. He continued to look at him. "Okay, okay. It's Hikari. We've had a little fight." He looked back to the kitchen, desperate for a change of subject. "Would you like some tea?" 

Yamato walked into the kitchen, "I'll make some." Takeru sat down at the table and waited for his brother to continue. "What did you fight about?" 

It wasn't prying, Takeru reminded himself. His brother just wanted to make sure he was okay. "The usual. She doesn't feel loved enough." He took a deep breath, allowing himself to watch his brother as he started to heat the water. "And I don't think I helped things by telling her that I loved someone else." 

Yamato didn't miss a beat, "Does this other person know you how you feel?" 

Takeru stared meaningfully at his brother's back. The effect was missed as Yamato started going through the cabinets, looking for the tea. "Yes, he does." Yamato grew quiet as he heard him rise from the chair and slowly approach. Then, Takeru's arms were around Yamato's shoulders, and his mouth was slightly brushing against his brother's neck. "You know I'll always love you." He could feel his heartbeat, beating right next to his ear. So soft... so warm... His love was right next to him, so still... so unresisting... 

The contact was broken as Yamato jerked away from the stove and the steaming pot of tea fell to the floor. He was holding his hand, obviously in pain. Takeru was by his side in seconds, turning off the stove and leading his brother to the bathroom. He turned on the cold water, and let his brother submerge his burned hand. 

--- 

_Yamato has such soft hands,_ Takeru thought as he gently applied some Aloe Vera to his burn. He avoided his brother's gaze -- or perhaps it was the other way around. As he continued to touch that smooth, beautiful skin, Takeru could feel himself loosing all rational thought. "I can kiss it and make it better..." He leaned forward, and pressed a tender kiss against his brother's arm. Yamato didn't move. He didn't breathe. He moved forward for another kiss... 

"Takeru, did you fix supper already?" They had both somehow missed the opening of the door. Takeru jerked away and turned around to see his mother coming around the corner. He could only hope that he wasn't blushing. His mother stopped upon seeing her two children together. "Oh, Yamato. What are you doing here?" She set down an armload of papers and then looked to the broken teapot on the floor. "What happened here?" 

"Yamato was making some tea when the stove burned him and he dropped everything," Takeru replied, so innocent... so seemingly unknowing... 

"I've got to get home. I just came by to see Takeru..." He walked past his brother and put on his coat and shoes. He gave one last look at Takeru, and then walked out the door. 

_ "Yamato... will you kiss me?" An icy silence. The older boy wasn't going to reply. "Please, Yamato... please kiss me."_

_ "Takeru, I won't do it." Determined to stand firm. Determined not to break._

_ "Yamato. Yamato, I want to be with you..." Desperately pleading to be touched just once._

_ "Takeru, it's not right. I'm not going to hurt you. Don't make me do it, Takeru." The final words before the innocent angel began to cry._

Takeru ignored his mother and went straight to his room, locking the door behind him. 

--- 

Takeru stared at the board, the numbers blurring together and fading out as he shut his eyes. He was too tired to be in school, too tired to ignore his problems. Hikari was sitting next to him, taking notes and solving another fun math problem. She hadn't spoken to him all week. Takeru closed his eyes and felt his head slip down until he was resting against his desk. Sleep would have been so welcome, so wanted... 

"I'm pregnant." 

Takeru blinked a few times, trying to focus on who was talking. Hikari. He hadn't heard her right. He was praying he hadn't heard her correctly. "Wha...?" 

She turned to him slightly, and brought a hand down to her unnoticeable abdomen. "We're going to have a baby, Takeru." 

Now wide awake, he simply stared at her. He couldn't seem to speak, "...Baby?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing, he didn't want to believe what he was hearing. The bell rang to leave class. Hikari still sat in her desk, her eyes never leaving the book in front of her. He could see tears rolling down her eyes. He ordered his exhausted body to get out of the desk and go to Hikari. 

"Excuse me, students," the substitute teacher interrupted. "I need to lock up the classroom, so you need to leave." She awkwardly tapped her foot against the floor. 

Takeru put his arms around Hikari, and gently guided her to the door. He picked up her books and led her into the hall. The tears weren't being restrained now, and they flowed freely from her eyes. "God, Takeru, what am I going to do?" He embraced her in his arms, and she buried her head in his chest. "What can I do... ?" 

"We'll think about that later, Hikari. Let's get you home for now... We can talk about the baby --" He stopped talking as Hikari furiously started shaking her head and sobbing. 

People in the halls were beginning to stare, so Takeru slowly began leading Hikari down to his locker. "Why don't you want to go home?" He asked carefully as he tenderly started to wipe away the tears from her eyes. 

"I.. I told them about the baby." Her words were flat. Takeru could already tell where this was going. "I think they... I think that they just didn't want to accept it." Her sobs had almost stopped. Her gaze slipped down to the floor, unable to make eye contact with Takeru. "They threw me out. They told me that... they told me not to come back until I was a decent girl." She started crying again. 

Takeru felt guilt and pity flood into him like poison. He tried to put on a brave smile, "I'm sure that they were just in shock -- they're just upset. Give them some to get used to the issue --" 

Hikari didn't let him finish. "That's what I thought, too. I thought that if I just waited, then it would be okay. So I went to my room. My father came in a little later and _threw_ a paper bag at me, telling me I didn't even deserve a suitcase. He _threw_ it at me, Takeru. My father has never done something like that to me before." She paused to take a deep breath and rub her eyes. "What am I going to do, Takeru? Where am I going to stay?" 

--- 

_I've never really noticed how dusty my ceiling is..._ _I should probably get around to cleaning that... _Takeru stared up meaninglessly at the ceiling, imagining little designs into the paint blotches on the walls. If he was a more creative person, he'd call it imagination. Somehow, however, hallucinations seemed like a better word. He exhaled deeply, and closed his eyes. 

_"I have no where to go, Takeru." Hikari's words were blunt and full of guilt._

_ "Hikari, calm down." He would do anything to make her stop crying, anything to fix this mess. "We'll find you a place to stay."_

_ "I don't have anyone, Takeru! Don't you understand?!" Her shoulders hunched down and her body trembled under suppressed sobs._

_ "What about Taichi? He would never turn his back on you." Spreading that sense of hope like a plague._

_ "I -- I could ask him, I guess. I don't think I have Sora's number, though..." One problem solved. A million more to go._

Takeru rolled off of the bed and stumbled to the bedroom door, careful not to trip over empty beer cans. He blinked almost groggily and walked over to the phone. He almost missed a few of the buttons, and mentally reminded himself not to drink before trying to operate complex machines. Not that the phone was complex, it was just really hard to see... 

"... Sora Takenouchi speaking." Bright and cheery, always wanting to please. So damn happy. 

Takeru snapped to attention, and focused on the person on the other end of the phone. "Hi, Sora. This is Takeru." _Nice, Takeru. That didn't come out slurred enough. _He concentrated on forming words, "Is Hikari there yet?" 

Sora was always too happy, well... at least dedicated to being happy. He could almost see her smiling through the phone. "Yeah! She just got in!" Sex with Taichi must be really good for her. 

"...Takeru?" Hikari's voice was softer than usual. Takeru wondered if she had been crying. He decided not to ask and open up that room of self-hate and arguing. "Takeru, thanks for calling me here." 

"Are you doing okay?" It was a hollow, meaningless question. 

"I'm hanging in there. Taichi and Sora are being really good to me." 

"I'm glad to hear it." It sounded sincere, not drunken. 

"Taichi was really mad at our parents. He wasn't this upset when they threw him out. I really didn't understand it then, I was just wanting someone to tell me everything would be okay again. No one ever said it." _I know the feeling, Hikari, I know the feeling._ "It was really good of them to take me in." She seemed so surprised by the fact, as if she believed that no one would ever want her. 

"You didn't expect him to turn you down, did you?" Takeru mentally kicked himself. No more alcohol before talking to people. _No more alcohol at all,_ a voice reminded him, _wasn't that the promise you made to yourself?_

"... No, but it _is_ Sora's apartment." A long, painful pause. "Takeru, I need to go." 

"Hikari, are you okay?" Genuine concern, not a lie. Never a lie, not anymore. 

"Yeah, I just don't feel so good. Part of the whole pregnancy thing, I guess." 

--- 

_ Flowers, flowers, everywhere; but not a one will grow_. Takeru stared across the aisles and aisles of flowers, looking for the perfect one. The perfect one was the only one worthy of being bought. No one wanted the ones that weren't perfect. Just like no one wanted him, just like no one wanted Hikari. Well -- no one besides Taichi and himself. Self-pity was such a fun state-of-mind to play with. 

Takeru's eyes stopped on the perfect flower. Velvet-soft pink petals, each one of the undamaged, the perfect shape and texture. The sweetest scent a flower could have, the loveliest long green stem. Takeru picked up the pink rose, and a small bunch of baby's breath. He took them to the clerk, and watched as he tenderly wrapped them together in tissue paper. Takeru found the best card the handed it to the clerk. 

"Would you like us to write a message, sir?" The answer was obvious, but he still had to ask. It was part of the job. Takeru nodded and handed the clerk a pen when the clerk couldn't find one. "What message would you like, sir?" 

Takeru thought about it for a moment, then smiled sadly. "'_Everything will be okay again.'"_

--- 

_You know you can't drink all of your problems away, _ a small voice reminded Takeru as he unlocked the door to the apartment he shared with his mother and walked inside. He shut the door behind him, not bothering to lock it. As he slipped his shoes off, he questioned the wisdom of getting drunk just hours before his mother was supposed to be home. He went to his room anyway. Passing the open math textbook, Takeru went to his closet and reached up to the top shelf. 

Nothing was there. He moved to the right. No six-pack was there. He stood up on his toes and skimmed his hands across the top shelf. Nothing. With an almost disappointed sigh, he slammed the closet door and sank down to the floor. "Drunk the last can this morning." It was all but pointless to say so. 

Digging through his pockets, Takeru counted his money and redid his math over and over again in his head. He had barely enough for a six-pack. He glanced at the clock on the wall. Still enough time to get the alcohol and get wasted before his mother came home. 

_"Yamato, why does Taichi laugh all the time?" Perhaps he was pushing the naiveté a little too hard._

_ "He's drunk, Takeru." He was almost reluctant to tell his little brother this. Too afraid he would think less of both of them._

_ "Are you drunk?" The question caused Yamato to jump back in surprise._

_ "I don't drink." A cold denial, almost believable._

_ "Oh." The unspoken question: Would you tell me if you did?_

_ "Does Taichi get drunk a lot?" The 'innocent voice' was gone._

_ "Sometimes." Sometimes, occasionally, all the time._

_ "Why don't you drink with him?" Why don't you trust me enough to tell me you do?_

_ "Drinking is bad for you, Takeru. Promise me you'll never do it." Don't be like me, Takeru. Be something better._

_ "I promise..." Liar._

The door creaked to a close behind him, and Takeru immediately wished he had brought his jacket. Harsh, cold wind howled against his face, and he hurried down the street. Blocks and street names blurred past him as he ran down the sidewalk. It seemed like forever, but he finally reached the liquor store. 

--- 

Going home was out of the question. If his mother found out that he was drinking again, there was no way he'd ever be trusted again. Takeru looked down at the brown paper bag tucked under his arm. Rather than the six-pack, he had settled for the bottle of booze. There was less of it, but it packed one hell of a kick. 

Instead of going home, Takeru took a different route and started walking to a different apartment. A different room, a different kitchen. It wasn't the home that he had defiled with his dirty love. It wasn't the hallway where he had first confessed his feelings -- feelings that had no right being confessed. 

He caught sight of it in the distance, a tall gray building with shining glass windows and a little balcony space for the higher floors. He stepped inside the elevator, and pushed the button for the top floor. There were three apartments on top, and Takeru walked down the hall to the last one. Ishida. It was neatly written next to the door. Takeru brought his finger up to the wall and lightly traced the strokes. Ishida. He tried to open the door, and smiled when he saw it was locked. He squatted down next to the floor, and pushed the thin strip of metal under the door up with hard jerks. The spare key was sitting there. "Yamato, you are so predictable." 

Standing up and stamping the metal back in place, Takeru unlocked the door and walked inside, locking the door behind him. He didn't turn the lights on, merely stood in the darkness. Even without the lights, he could see almost every outline. The moon was almost full, casting shadows on every surface. "Yamato, you are so predictable." He walked over to the kitchen counter, and tried to remember where everything was the last time he had been there. Choosing a spot next to an empty pizza box, he sat down on the counter and unwrapped his bottle. The bottle opener was cutting into his leg through his pocket, and Takeru took it out and popped open the bottle. 

The alcohol tasted like acid, and burned his throat until it settled into a burning and churning pit in his stomach. He took another drink. 

_"Hikari, do you want to get married now?" It was asked so tenderly one might think he _wanted_ to marry her. She knew better; she always knew better._

_ "I guess we better. I mean, I don't want our baby growing up and wondering why its parents have two different last names." He was glad he couldn't see her when she blushed. "Sorry."_

_ "That's okay. I don't want him wondering either." A comforting arm around her shoulder. I understand._

_ "'Him?'" She was smiling. He couldn't remember the last time he saw her smile like that._

_ "... or her." It almost seemed to be okay again. Almost._

Takeru brought the bottle up to his lips again, savoring the pleasure he knew he'd soon get from the blissful forgetfulness of life. It was like poison -- burning and eating away at him until there was nothing. He swallowed another gulp. 

_"Drinking is bad for you, Takeru. Promise me you'll never do it." It went without saying: Don't you do enough bad stuff without drinking alcohol?_

He took another drink. 

"_I promise._"_ He almost believed himself._

The bottle was empty. It fell from his hands and dropped to the floor with a thud, and rolled across the cheap plastic tiled floor. At least some things in his life didn't break. 

_ "Yamato, you are so predictable." _


	3. Break Me

3469  
Bura-sama  
Monday.12.24.01  
Friday.2.1.02  


Disclaimer: Digimon belongs in no way to me. I'm making no profit from this sicko story. Really, I'm not. I don't own the characters, I'm merely using them for my sick and twisted fantasies, and no infringement is intended.

Warnings: This is a Takari (Takeru X Hikari); Takato (Takeru X Yamato); Hikeru (Hikari X Takeru); and Yamakeru (Yamato X Takeru). This fic features both heterosexual and homosexual situations, rape, incest, suicide, and mild lime scenes. You have been warned, and any damage this fic might do to your mental stability is strictly your own fault.

Notes: Italics mean flashback.

Glass Doll

chapter three

_The back of that chair looks almost like a broken heart,_ Takeru considered that for a moment. Then, he abruptly burst out laughing. "So ironic that I would even..." Another laughing spell overtook him, and he sat on the counter as his body racked with hysterics. "... That I would even think in terms of broken hearts and fluffy clouds." Almost as soon as it has started, the laughter was gone. "Takeru, you have been reading too many of those damn romance novels." They drew him in with sinfully painted sex scenes and smoldering words. Then they left him hanging at the end with compromised ideals and an even more confounded feeling in his heart.

_"Hey, little girl, why are you crying?" Bending down low to look directly into her tear-stained face._

_ She sniffled twice, then wiped away tears falling from her eyes. "Mommy and Daddy moved away, and now Mommy's gone." A fresh set of tears escaped her eyes and she buried her face into her hands._

_ He could relate. His parents had split up when he was much younger._

_ Footsteps from behind the girl, then pale fingers were gently stroking the little girl's hair. "Our father came out of the closet, and our mother blew her brains out because of it." More knowing eyes looked up from the little girl to the stranger-boy standing in the shopping checkout lane._

_ Okay, so maybe he couldn't relate._

_ The little girl snuffled, "I don't want a gay daddy!"_

_ The older sister bent down to her own knees, just as Takeru was doing. "Honey, being gay isn't evil. It's like I told you, sweetheart -- locks and keys. God made girl locks and boy keys. Sometimes, two locks or two keys come together. It's nothing wrong, but God wanted a lock and key to come together so that they could unlock the beautiful gift that two of the same kind can't uncover."_

_ What a simple explanation. Takeru wished it was that easy. The younger sibling sniffled again, and stared up at her sister with wide eyes. "But they told me at school that being gay is the work of the Devil."_

_ The whole room was silent. The older girl gently gripped her sister's shoulders, and forced her to look into her eyes. "Honey, who told you this?"_

_ "My friends at school. They said that God sent nasty fags to Hell because He didn't want them in Heaven." Wide green eyes were trembling with emotion._

_ The older sibling shook her shoulders. "Honey, don't listen to those brats. They only say it because they're scared.. they're scared that they're the same way."_

_ "So it would be okay is I was gay?"_

_ "No." Firm and absolute. "I will not have a lesbian for a sister."_

_ Now the girl was really confused, "But you said there was nothing wrong with being like Daddy."_

_ Understanding dawned, "Honey," she was going to get an answer. "Did someone tell you that you're gay?"_

_ "They say at school that if you have gay parents, then you're gay too." Tears ran down from big bright eyes._

_ The older sibling glared hard, ignoring the hypocrisy in her own voice, "So help me God, you are not gay, and I don't want you around those faggots that said you were."_

_ The little girl looked past her sister and into Takeru's knowing eyes, "Are you a faggot?"_

Takeru flinched as he recalled what had happened earlier that week. People were so hypocritical. People were so judging.

He slid from the kitchen counter and with a slight giggle walked toward his brother's room.

---

He heard the door being unlocked, opened, and pushed shut all in a matter of seconds. _He_ was home. He heard the jacket being unzipped and tossed on the back of a chair. Heard the quiet sound of his brother stepping out of his shoes, sighing in exhaustion as he locked the door behind him. _And they say your senses are dulled when you're drunk off your ass._ The little fwip forewarned the lights being turned on, and Takeru squinted because of the brightness. He heard more than saw as his brother stopped walking and stared at him.

"Takeru... ?" It was little more than a whisper.

Takeru looked up into his brother's eyes and giggled, "So cute." Yamato flinched.

The beer bottle under his feet rolled across the floor, and Yamato looked down to it with disgust. "Takeru, have you been ... drinking?"

Another girly giggle. He looked down to his feet. Stiletto heels dangled off of the kitchen counter. He slid off of his perch and wobbled as he started walking to his brother. High heels just weren't made for guys. He stumbled, and smoothed the wrinkle in his lace hem. His grin faded and turned hard. "Don't even pretend you didn't know." The guilty look in the other's eyes. Victory. He pulled the slip down a little more; it almost came down to mid-thigh. The fishnet stockings were starting to itch. He couldn't feel his toes in the shiny black shoes. The heavy gold earrings pulled against his ears, and the lip gloss tasted weird on his tongue. The mascara was starting to run down his face, and he had the sneaky suspicion that the eye shadow looked more like a bruise than it should have. He stepped into the light, and Yamato paled. At least he could still leave a good impression.

"Welcome home, _honey_." A hand with fingernail polish smeared all over the fingers reached up and curled around Yamato's shoulder. He took an immediate step back and thought that his little brother looked almost hurt. He knew that he himself was scared out of his mind.

"Takeru, what are you doing?"

Two of those smeared red fingers reached up to brush away a lock of his hair. Yamato shuddered under the touch. It wasn't from fear. Takeru brought those fingers down to lightly touch his brother's lips. "Just what we both want." Yamato shuddered again.

It was a gentle kiss, warm and inviting. Takeru's hands went up to push the other's head down, and his lips opened in silent command. So sweet... so warm... so--

Yamato jerked his head back as far as Takeru's embrace would allow. "Takeru. We CANNOT do this." He almost believed it.

Their lips were only a breath apart. Yamato could still taste the alcohol that tainted his brother. Those sweet lips of his pushed against his again and Yamato groaned. Takeru pulled back and Yamato could feel his smile. "I didn't say you had choice."

Panic. Panic and a slight shiver of arousal heaved through his body. Takeru pulled him closer so that their chests were pushed together. "Stop squirming." Yamato wriggled faster, and with each movement Takeru's hold on him tightened. Another kiss on cold flesh and another and another and suddenly that cold flesh wasn't so cold.

The kitchen counter bit into the back of his legs, but Yamato didn't seem to notice as he struggled to stop his little brother. No matter what he did, the other's hands seemed to be quicker and far better at holding his own frail wrists down. He could feel his brother pushing against his thigh, making his intentions known. And then the kitchen counter wasn't behind him anymore, and he suddenly found himself without a shirt. It took a moment to register the fact that Takeru was slowly and steadily pushing him towards the bedroom.

_Just give into it Yamato..._ How he hated that inner voice. How easy it would be to just stop fighting Takeru on this issue.

His back hit the door to his bedroom, his hip slamming against edge of the doorknob. Then Takeru was pushing him up, and fumbling with the button on his jeans.

Yamato forgot to resist.

It didn't seem wrong as his little brother started tugging his pants down and reached down... Takeru's smoldering hot tongue licked its way across Yamato's neck and down to bite his shoulder. The sound the older sibling made was somewhere between a shout and a moan. Takeru moved back to open the bedroom door as his hand searched for the door knob.

_This is what you've always wanted, Yamato. Don't lie to yourself..._

He could almost taste it, what was going to happen. Takeru tightened his arms around Yamato to open the door and moved to go through it. He backed up, not paying attention to the familiar surroundings he had tried so hard to make a home.

And then suddenly he was on the floor, Takeru sprawled over him and laughing. The now-crushed beer can rolled across the floor and collided with the wall. Takeru laughed hysterically, and then suddenly just collapsed against him.

Yamato waited for a moment, then picked up his little brother and brought him to the bed. Pulling off his high heels, he pulled the blankets up to his shoulders and moved the pillow around until it seemed to rest comfortably under his head. Yamato plopped down on the bed and took a deep breath. His heart was racing, guilt had already flooded through him from what had almost happened.

"I can't believe I almost slept with my little brother." Nausea twisted like a painful knot in his stomach.

Convinced that Takeru was dead drunk and not waking up anytime soon, Yamato finished pulling off his jeans and climbed into bed next to the reeking form of his little brother.

"_Yamato, you'll always be with me, right?" It was said with such a sweet, vulnerable little voice._

_ "You know I will, Takeru." A warm smile full of love._

_ "And you'll never let anything bad happen to me?"_

_ "Never."_

_ "Yamato. Yamato, I love you." A much younger Takeru. A much more innocent Takeru._

---

"This is so hypocritical." The hissing sound as a can of beer was opened.

Yamato slowly brought it to his lips and took a small sip. He'd sworn off beer on his sixteenth birthday. He'd sworn off beer two days ago when all he could think of had been Takeru and Hikari having sex. He hadn't meant to walk in on them in his bedroom. He's meant to knock, but Takeru had never minded before...

Realizing that the beer was empty, he sat the can down next to the other one on the floor. _Alcohol is bad, alcohol is bad._ He stopped himself from opening another can. His head was starting to ache from sitting against the foot of the bed for so long. The clock next to his bed was blinking 1:53 in lovely red LED lights. He heard the rustling of his blankets being pushed back.

"... Yamato..." It sounded more like a moan than an actual word.

"Yes, Takeru?"

"I'm sorry." The loud thump told Yamato that Takeru had fallen out of the bed. "For everything." He stumbled out of the bedroom and veered right toward the bathroom.

Yamato sat quietly, back pressed up against the bed. Takeru returned a few minutes later and sat down next to him. "Miyako's going to want her lingerie back eventually."

Shock twisted in those blood-shot blue eyes, "Miyako?"

A small smile crept across his face, "She wanted more than an autograph, and left me something to remind me of her." He looked at his brother with an ironic grin. "You had no trouble finding them, though."

His little brother was blushing. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"I see." Maybe it was the alcohol that was making the corners of his mouth kick up in a smile.

He was hesitant to continue talking to his older brother, "Yamato... what exactly did we... do?"

Yamato flinched. "Takeru, it doesn't matter what--"

"What _happened_ between us?"

He sighed before answering, "I came home to find you dressed up like Mimi on crack. I... you kissed me and told me that I didn't have a choice." A deep breath, then another, "Then you pulled me to the bedroom --"

"Yamato," Guilt and self-hatred bubbled up.

"Then you tripped over a beer can and passed out." He reached up and stroked his brother's hair. Pulling his smaller body close, he wrapped his arms around him. His face was pressed into the other's hair, intoxicated by the almost spicy smell mixed with alcohol.

"I need to get back to Mom." A choked whisper.

"I called her and told her you were spending the night." The words muffled in soft blond locks.

"I don't think It's such a good idea..." It was almost a groan. "Hangovers suck."

"Just let me hold you for a little while, Takeru." The silence reigned for a few moments more. "So what brought you to this drinking spell?"

Yamato felt more than saw Takeru's answering shrug. "Problems with Hikari." A quiet pause as the siblings sat intertwined on the floor. "The usual." It went without saying: _We've been arguing about you again. Not that she knows it's you._

Yamato closed his eyes and took comfort in his brother's warm embrace. Sleep was so welcome.

---

Takeru woke up to find himself resting against Yamato's shoulder and his body racked with unbelievable pain. His head throbbed and his ears were stinging. _Probably shouldn't pierce your own ears with a thumbtack, Takeru._ He reached up and warily touched his ears. Besides being crusted over with blood, they screamed beneath his fingers. Groaning and pulling himself from the floor, Takeru realized with dismay that he was still wearing the lingerie. And makeup.

He blinked twice before realizing that he was in Yamato's bedroom. He looked around and stumbled toward the bathroom. He returned a few minutes later with no shirt and a pair of Yamato's jeans that were far too tight for him. The make-up had come off with vigorous scrubbing, although the nail polish was still smeared across his hands. He sighed and walked over to Yamato, ready to pick him up and get him off the floor. He stopped short as he noticed for the first time the small pile of beer cans.

"Oh, Yamato." Immediately leaving the bedroom, he raced into the kitchen and jerked open the refrigerator door. He noticed it right away. The small brown bag stuck in the back. "Damn Yamato, you told me you quit." He reached for the bag and squinted to read the print. Tequila. He walked over to the sink and started to pour it down the drain. "It's too good to go to waste, and I haven't had a drink since yesterday afternoon..."

It burned as he felt it coat its way down to his stomach. He took another gulp right from the bottle, and grimaced. He did not need to get drunk again. _Hey, it'll make the hangover pain go away..._ He took another drink, and hiccupped. Sliding down to the floor in front of refrigerator, he started taking small sips until he gradually noticed there was less and less in the bottle.

"Takeru?" It was whispered from the door. He didn't bother to look up; he could see his brother's disapproving stare. He didn't bother to look up as those slender fingers reached down and snatched the tequila. The bottle was empty except for the worm. "You're going to die of alcohol poisoning before you're eighteen." It was said in all seriousness.

He didn't even realize it was his own hands that were suddenly moving. They reached up and touched that beautiful blond hair. They moved down and with a touch that was feather-light moved over his brother's eye lids. They continued down and brushed across the other's lips. Yamato sharply inhaled and stepped away. "Takeru, no."

"But I want to." Spoiled brat? Not quite.

"We don't always get what we want, Takeru." He knew his voice wasn't very firm.

"You'd never say 'no' to me." A hand snaked out and tugged at the sky blue shirt his brother was wearing. Yamato dropped the tequila bottle. It shattered in the kitchen floor. "You promised."

"Takeru, listen to me: _NO._ This will never end well, no matter how much you think you --" His words were silenced as his little brother stepped forward and kissed him.

And then they were walking back to the bedroom, Yamato pushing against the iron grip of Takeru. They stopped for a mere moment as Takeru stepped on the bottle; aside from an agonizing moan, he didn't seem to notice the blood dripping out of his foot. He kept pushing Yamato backwards until he hit the foot of his bed and they fell back against it. He tore his brother's shirt off and jerked him upward enough to remove the jeans. They were tossed aside, as were Takeru's clothes.

Takeru's mouth dragged downward from his brother's neck in fervid kisses. Yamato's hands tried to push him away, but every movement was blocked. He was saying something to him, something that Takeru only interpreted as resistance.

Takeru didn't notice when Yamato stopped resisting.

---

Early morning sunlight warmed his face, and Takeru blinked awake. His head was pounding like a hammer striking an anvil, and his muscles were achingly sore. There was something wrong with his foot and he looked down to see what --

He was not in his bed. Conscious for the first time of his surroundings, he realized he was in Yamato's bed. A fresh wave of guilt flooded in when he remembered that he had gone over to his brother's apartment drunk off his ass and had tried to rape his older brother. He pushed the blanket away and stood. Sharp pain arched up through his leg, and he collapsed back down on the bed. He had blood smeared across the bottom of his foot. A deep cut lashed across his sole, probably a puncture wound. _I hope this doesn't require stitches_. Moaning to himself, he limped across the room, picked up his discarded jeans from the night before, and hobbled into the bathroom.

His eyes were bloodshot when he looked into the mirror. Blue and red. He tugged on the jeans, conscious of his injured foot. "I wonder what happened to it..." It was said as he tightly wrapped a towel around his foot and looked around for a shirt. Yamato wouldn't mind if he borrowed his clothes. He couldn't remember wearing a shirt the night before, after the little lingerie stint. He hated that he'd slept naked in Yamato's bed. Sure, it was normal for him -- but he never slept nude in someone else's room. Hikari being an exception. He walked out of the bathroom and into his brother's bedroom. He spied a wrinkled blue shirt on the floor and stopped cold.

He saw the other pair of jeans on the floor and nausea twisted inside of him. He looked up to the bed and saw the unmistakable form of his brother. The bile was rising in the back of his throat as he noticed the uneasy breathing in Yamato's sleep, the pasty white skin of his brother's back. He hurried back to the bathroom and started retching as it all came back to him.

_Skin and skin pushed together. Domineering hands holding back unwilling ones. His brother's ragged breathing as he squirmed to get away. "Damn, this is _wrong_! Stop it Takeru!"_

He collapsed down, his head resting on the top of the sink. The queasiness wouldn't leave.

It was all catching up to him. Sleeping with Hikari, getting her pregnant, losing the battle with alcohol, and now raping his brother. 

Then the tears started. One, two, three drops against the white tiles in the bathroom. Four, five, six hit his forearm. He hadn't let himself cry, had stopped himself before the first tear could fall. Once they started, he feared they'd never stop.

"Takeru?" His head whipped immediately to the door. Yamato was standing there in blue silk pajama bottoms. No shirt. Takeru's eyes went immediately to the softly crushed skin up and down his brother's back. It would be all bruises before the day was over. He had a weary look in his eyes, as if he'd aged ten years since the day before. Takeru caught the look in his eyes that flashed through for only seconds. Guilt.

"Don't you dare blame yourself for this Yamato." The other opened his mouth to argue, but Takeru interrupted. "Did I wake you up?"

He leaned against the door. "You've never been a quiet crier, Takeru." Takeru didn't miss the wince as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I hope you're not crying for me."

"It's everything. It's you, it's Hikari, it's the --" A weary grin cracked along his face. "I never told you, did I?"

"Told me what?" Curiosity was mixed with dread.

"Yamato, you're going to be an uncle."


End file.
